


Little Stars

by pookiestheone



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Anal Fingering, Character Death, Explicit Sexual Content, Fucking, Love, M/M, Masturbation, Underage consensual sex, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 21:21:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pookiestheone/pseuds/pookiestheone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The hidden past of Jimmy Kent</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: Character Death**

  
When he shall die,  
Take him and cut him out in little stars  
And he will make the face of heaven so fine  
That all the world will be in love with night  
And pay no worship to the garish sun  
 _Romeo and Juliet_

* * *

Jimmy sat in the servants' hall, drumming his fingers nervously on the table. Lady Anstruther had never spoken individually to any of the servants before. The most she had ever said to him was to ask him to do something. It wasn't that she was unusual. That was just the way things worked. Nesbitt the butler was the intermediary when necessary. But not tonight. Nesbitt entered the room and Jimmy stood up.

"Her Ladyship has finished with Miss Farnby and would like to see you now. She is in the library."

"Mr. Nesbitt, do you know why?"

"That is for her to tell you. Mind that you behave yourself. Answer when spoken to and say only what is needed."

Jimmy nodded. He knew the rules. There was no reason to remind him.

As he climbed the stairs he worried about what was going to happen. He searched his memory to see if he had done something. If he had been found out. They had been careful so hopefully that wasn't it. Was he going to be let go for something he didn't know he had done? Surely he would have a chance to defend himself. He hesitated at the library door, then knocked cautiously.

"Come in."

As he closed the door behind him he saw that the dowager's grandson was also there. His heart sank. He desperately tried to catch his eye, but he was leaning over whispering in her ear.

"Yes, Daniel, I know."

She waved him away.

"How long have you worked here?"

"A little more than four years, Your Ladyship, including a year or so before the war."

"Ah yes, the war. How long were you away?"

"Four years."

"And we obviously held your position."

"Yes, Your Ladyship."

She paused, staring at him as if considering what she was going to say next. Jimmy could feel his palms start to sweat. She reminded him of the myth, Greek he thought, that Daniel had told him about. Medusa. He was just waiting for the snakes to appear.

"I suppose that is neither here nor there, but I did want to clarify. As you may know, my family is French, although I was born here. We originate from Saint-Quentin and I have decided I wish to go there to live. I will employ most of the servants locally, but will take a few with me. I would like you to be one of them."

Jimmy felt his knees sag.

"Yes, Your Ladyship."

"Was that an answer?"

"No, Your Ladyship."

She looked to her grandson.

"Daniel, do you understand this?"

"Yes, Grandmama. You've taken Jimmy by surprise. He will need some time to think about this. After all, it is quite a change. Isn't that right, Jimmy?

Jimmy looked at him helplessly and merely nodded.

"Oh, very well. You may have a few days, but Daniel will need your answer by Friday since he, not Nesbitt. will be handling this. I expect to leave within two weeks and let him deal with everything after that. I will want Nesbitt, Farnby, and you to accompany me. Everyone else will be let go with a month's wages and references after this is all settled."

She nodded to dismiss him. As he turned to leave, Daniel called after him

"Jimmy, wait in the hall for me. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Yes, Your Lordship."

Once outside, he leaned against the door jamb for support. Not France. He couldn't go back to France. That was all behind him. He couldn't bear to have the scars ripped open all over again. Why hadn't Daniel told him she was thinking about this? They had been at odds in the last few months, but this was important. It seemed that he didn't care after all.

"Jimmy, why are standing there?"

Jimmy bolted upright. It was Nesbitt.

"Daniel asked me to wait."

He realised what he had said as soon as the words left his lips. Too late though.

"Daniel? His Lordship? Who gave you permission to call him by his given name?"

He almost said, "He did." but knew that would make matters worse. Nesbitt wouldn't believe him anyway.

"I'm sorry, Mr Nesbitt. The news about France shocked me and I forgot myself."

Nesbitt looked at him. He didn't fool him; he knew what he was after a few weeks. But what he and His Lordship had gotten up to was none of his concern whether or not he understood or approved. He couldn't do anything about it without hurting the family. Besides he had to admit grudgingly that he had no complaints about Jimmy's work and attitude. Anyway he knew His Lordship would tire of him; he had seen it before. Now, though, it didn't matter. They were for France and Daniel would stay here.

"Yes. All right. Just watch yourself."

"Yes, Mr. Nesbitt. But France? Really?"

"I know. But we go where Her Ladyship goes."

Jimmy leaned back against the door as he watched him continue down the hall. Maybe you, but not me. The door opened suddenly behind him and he would have fallen into the library if Daniel hadn't grabbed him under the arms. Lady Anstruther's voice sounded irritated.

"Daniel, what are you doing?"

"Nothing, Grandmama."

"Well, do it somewhere else."

Daniel pushed Jimmy into the hallway and closed the door

"God, she can be a bitch at times. Maybe France isn't far enough away."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Not here, not now. I'm staying tonight and I didn't bring my valet on purpose. I've asked Nesbitt to send you. We'll talk then."

"Yes, Your Lordship."

Daniel almost said something, but instead turned and went into the sitting room.

"Pompous ass," Jimmy muttered under his breath.

He tried to remember why he had ever gotten involved with him in the first place. Jimmy knew he had a type. Someone with a bit of evil about him, someone with a smile that made him edgy, someone whose touch left him uneasy but wanting more. Daniel was all of that. On the surface just another aristocratic layabout, but get to know him, get him in bed. He shivered slightly. Ah, yes, that was why.

Around nine Jimmy was in the servants' hall once again, hoping for a quick cup of tea before ending his night. Nesbitt came in just as he sat down and reached for one of the biscuits sitting in front of him. He jumped to his feet, almost spilling his tea in the process.

"His Lordship is ready for you."

"Shit, I forgot."

"Jimmy! Language. This isn't the trenches."

"Sorry, Mr. Nesbitt."

He took a quick sip of the tea then set it down. He deserved an explanation and he was going to get it. He knocked and opened the door to find Daniel sitting on the bed, already out of his jacket and tie, his shirt pulled out of his trousers.

"I thought you needed a valet."

"Do you really think that's why you're here?"

"That's the only thing I'm here for. No, not just that. That, and a fucking explanation."

"Take it easy, Jimmy. Take it easy. Sit down."

He patted the bed beside him, but he took a chair instead. He got up to join him, but Jimmy just shook his head. "Fair enough", Daniel thought.

"Listen. This was as big a surprise to me as it is to you."

"I'll bet."

"No, I mean it. She had her solicitor call me late last week and give me the details. Didn't even think that she should ask me or tell me herself. She's always been headstrong and as she's gotten older that is even more apparent. Once she decides on something, no matter how mad it may seem, it gets done. Hell, she doesn't even speak French. There's no family there. I don't know what has gotten into her."

"So there's no changing her mind?"

"No. The property is on the market. She doesn't care if it sells or not. She doesn't need the money anyway. She's taking some of the contents, but the rest will just sit here, be sold with the house, or given away."

Jimmy got up and went to sit beside him.

"Daniel, you know I can't go to France."

"But . . ."

"It's Saint-Quentin. You know how close that is, what that means to me. It took me this long to be able to sleep most nights without nightmares, without seeing their faces, without seeing him."

Daniel put his arm around him.

"I know. So the answer is no. What will you do?"

"Find something else. Do you need anyone?"

He felt Daniel stiffen. Apparently, even if he did, Jimmy wasn't the one. He sighed.

"I thought not."

"Jimmy, you know I would."

"No, you wouldn't. No need to lie. It wouldn't work anyway. What we had, if we ever had anything, is gone. I'm not sure why I asked."

He got up and picked up his jacket and tie.

"Let me help you get ready for bed."

"Will you stay?"

"That's not a good idea. Besides I need some time to think right now."

Daniel stood up, pulling off his shirt.

"I know things have been awkward between us, but I'm not a cold-hearted bastard. If you decide you need someone, I'm here. No strings attached."

Jimmy smiled briefly. No strings attached. It seemed that was how it always started . . . or ended. It was what happened in between that broke your heart.

  



	2. Chapter 2

Jimmy walked into his room and slammed the door behind him. Fuck. As he took off his shirt and trousers and draped them over a chair, he could hear footsteps coming down the hall.

"Jimmy?"

It was Nesbitt. _Great, just great_.

"Yes Mr. Nesbitt."

"What was that noise?"

"The door slipped."

"I'm sure it did. Some of us are trying to sleep."

"Sorry."

He could almost sense that his hand was on the doorknob, ready to enter. He better not come in without asking. That would be the final thing that would set him off. He waited until he heard him retreating to his bedroom.

He pulled the covers down and threw himself on the bed, propping his back against the wall. Once Daniel told Lady Anstruther he wasn't going to France, he would have two weeks before he had nowhere to live. She wasn't going to let him stay when he wasn't needed. A month's wages wasn't much. His meagre savings wouldn't go far. He had no family to fall back on, so he needed to find something fast. Still, with a good reference he was sure he could manage. Thank God for good looks and the gift of the gab. Those had gotten him pretty far when he needed them.

He reached over and lifted a Bible out of his nightstand drawer. This had become his nightly ritual ever since the war. He opened it up, pulled out a photo and laid the book to one side. It helped keep the photo from warping. He noticed that the photo's edges were getting a bit ragged, but otherwise it look like new. He looked at it for a moment before flipping it over. On the back he had written, "Harry and Jimmy 1915. Here we go again." Below it Harry had added, "Always together." He turned it back over. Harry was sitting in a chair and Jimmy was on its arm, his arm draped across his shoulders. Harry's hand rested on Jimmy's thigh. They had it taken a week before they shipped out to France. Harry insisted that they get four done. One for each of them and one for their parents. He thought it was too much money, but when Harry wanted something he usually got it.

Sometimes when he looked at it he thought about how different the world had been. They were off on an adventure, just like they always had been as children. Harry leading the way and Jimmy following because . . . Because even as a child he would have followed Harry anywhere. They had grown up on the same street. In fact, he couldn't remember when he hadn't known him. Harry, the one who was always getting them into trouble. His mother told him the time would come when he would regret the day he met Harry. But it never did. He was sure the things they did drove their parents mad and he occasionally had the sore behind to prove it. But the next day they would be into some more mischief.

They used to sneak off to the river for a swim even when they were told not to. They had found a secluded spot with an old shed where they would strip down, run the fifteen yards to the river and dive in, Ducking each other under the water, splashing and yelling. Seeing who could hold his breath the longest. Harry usually won because he would poke Jimmy in the stomach. But the river meant something more than friendship. It was the summer after they left school and were both to go into service. Neither had found a place yet and they really didn't want to rush. After playing themselves out in the water they climbed onto the bank and lay in the sun to dry.

Harry rolled onto his stomach. Looking at Jimmy it was surprising how alike they were. He was as dark as Jimmy was fair, but they still looked like they could be brothers. Maybe it was the cheekbones. He prodded Jimmy in the ribs.

"What."

"Do you do it often?"

Jimmy turned onto his side to look at him.

"Do what often?"

"You know."

He pointed to Jimmy's cock and made a stroking motion. Jimmy blushed all the way down to his chest.

"No. Anyway it's none of your business."

"You're lying. I can always tell. I bet you do it every night."

Jimmy laughed.

"Just because you do?"

"Yeah, so what."

"Harry, you're not supposed to. It's not good for you."

"You've been listening to your father again. Tell me then. If it's not good for you why does it feel so good?"

"I don't know. It just isn't."

Harry looked around.

"Yeah, well I don't plan on stopping. Matter of fact I could do it right now."

"Harry!"

"Don't sound so shocked Jimmy. From where I'm lying you're already on your way. "

Jimmy had been unconsciously playing with his cock. He quickly pulled his hand away, but stayed facing him. The thought of doing it in public and doing it with Harry made him more excited. Especially doing it with Harry. If he only knew how he was part of the little ritual he had. How it wasn't just his own cock he was stroking. He leaned up one elbow to look around, nodding toward the shed

"It's too open here."

As Harry pushed himself off the ground, Jimmy could see that he was already hard. They ran to the shed just in case someone might be around. Harry closed the door and shoved the old table that held their clothes in front of it.

"You never know."

A tattered curtain over a broken window filtered light from the back of the shed. The floor was dirt and hard, so they propped themselves side by side against the table. Out of the corner of his eye, Jimmy could see Harry's hand already working furiously. He shifted a little closer, pretending he was trying to get comfortable.

"Bet I can finish before you do."

"Yeah, well, if you like it so much, why the hurry."

"Because I can always go again."

Jimmy started to giggle. He reached over to push Harry's shoulder, almost shoving him off the table.

"Hey, watch it. This thing is rough. I don't want slivers in my arse."

When he settled back their free hands were touching and their knees brushed against one another. Jimmy cautiously slipped his hand on top of Harry's. He felt rather than saw him slow down.

"What are you doing?"

He quickly pulled his hand away.

"Sorry."

Harry got up and stood in front of him.

"I didn't say not to."

For once, Jimmy took the lead. He reached out and grabbed Harry's cock, pulling him closer, watching his eyes slowly close as his fingers slid up and down the shaft. Harry braced himself against his shoulders, their faces within inches.

"Uh . . . easy."

Jimmy clenched his fist around his cock, squeezing and then releasing. Harry groaned and jerked.

"I thought you were in a rush."

His eyes fluttered open and he leaned forward so their foreheads touched. He slid one hand down Jimmy's chest to play with his foreskin, pulling it back over the head as far as he could and pinching it gently. Jimmy gasped.

"Not with you. Never with you."

Jimmy's hand started moving again, pausing at the top of each stroke to tease the drops of liquid at its tip. Harry's hand slipped from his cock to his balls and then between his legs, sliding his fist back to raise him off the table then forcing open his cheeks so his finger could play with the hole. Jimmy's breath caught in his throat and then escaped in a whimper. Harry leaned in, supporting himself against his chest and took hold of his cock. Their strokes matched each other, Fast, slow, fast, slow. Harry shuddered as his hips heaved. Jimmy shoved his tongue between his open lips, sucking in each groan as the hot spurts soaked his stomach.

He felt his own cock throb as Harry tightened his grip and just held it. He thought he was going to explode as a surge pulsed up and stopped. He wrenched is mouth away from Harry's

"Jesus! Jesus! Let go!"

But Harry held tight a few seconds longer then released slightly. With the first shot, he stopped teasing his hole and slipped the tip of his finger inside. Jimmy almost jumped off the table but dropped back forcing his finger deeper. He jerked so hard that the next one hit Harry in the chin. With each one his back arched and he thought he was going to pass out. Harry kissed him to muffle his moans. Finally Harry stepped away and he fell back onto the table, lying there trembling, trying to catch his breath. Harry leaned over and kissed him again.

"You don't know how much I've wanted to do that, Jimmy, but I was afraid."

Jimmy sat up.

"You, afraid? Never thought I'd hear that."

"Afraid that I'd lose you if you didn't feel the same."

Jimmy reached up and pulled him down.

"I don't think that will ever happen."

A quiet knock at the door startled him. Christ, what did Nesbitt want now? He quickly pulled the covers up and lifted his knees to hide his erection.

"Yes?"

Daniel appeared in the doorway.

"You shouldn't be here."

"I couldn't sleep. I wanted to make sure you were all right."

"I'm fine. I'll always be fine. Now, you should leave."

"I hoped you might still need someone tonight."

Jimmy thought about Harry.

"I need someone, but it's not you."

He watched the faint smile on Daniel's face fade.

"I'm sorry."

Daniel nodded and left.

It never should have been him. He realised now that Daniel had just been his attempt to find some type of solace. Something to make him feel alive again, but he knew he was just fooling himself. He would never allow himself to let that happen again, no matter what he had to do to stop it. Soon this place would be behind him and he could start again. A clean slate where no one knew him. He could create his own life and keep his past locked away.

  



	3. Chapter 3

Jimmy put the photo back in the Bible and closed it in the drawer.

That summer had been one for discovery, but it had been short. They only managed to get to the river once more before they both acknowledged they needed to stop playing around and find work. They had no intention of swimming. Jimmy had brought a blanket that he spread on the floor. As they lay spent, half dozing, Jimmy slid his hand down to Harry's crotch, idly playing with him.

"Not again, Jimmy."

"Weren't you the one who said you could always go again. But that's not what I want right now."

"So?"

"Look, we have to get positions before our parents throw us out. Besides it's not really fair on them."

"Don't remind me."

"Why don't we try for something together?

Harry rolled over to look at him.

"Is that even possible?"

"Well, David and Billy Trimble did. Remember?"

"Right, but they were twins and I thought Billy said that was because a lot of people liked their footmen to look similar. What are you thinking?"

"Let's go to the registry together. You've already said we look like brothers. We're the same size. Our suits are similar. We can even make our hair look the same. We don't have much else to offer. We're starting at the bottom and there's nothing to make us special."

"I don't know. Seems odd. Besides my hair is black."

"I didn't say we had to look exactly alike, just enough so that we stand out as a couple."

"Are we a couple?"

"I don't mean it like that. Or don't you want to be together if we can."

Harry leaned in to kiss him.

"What do you think?"

"All right, then let's try it. If it doesn't work there's nothing we can do about it."

Jimmy stood up and started getting dressed. He threw Harry his clothes.

"Get up. We have things to do."

Harry reached over and slapped his ass.

"Yes, sir."

The next day they arrived at the servants' registry office as it opened. They had been there before, even put their names in, but when they checked back every few days there had been nothing or nothing that they were desperate enough to want. Jimmy said that this time they needed to talk to someone to get their idea across, to make an impression. They were told that Mr. Clarke would be able to see them in a half hour.

He looked them up and down, then read over their information. The ages seemed right, but absolutely no experience. Although that really wasn't much of a problem when he was trying to fill minor positions. Looks mattered, though, and that wasn't a problem here. They might just do.

"So you want to work together? That is unusual. You normally get hired and take what you get, especially when you are just starting out."

Jimmy could see that Harry was starting to fiddle with his cap.

"Yes, sir. We know that, but if it's possible. Whoever hires us would never regret it. We're smart, we want to learn. We'll work hard, harder than anyone else. And if we can do it at the same place that's even better. And the fact that we know each other means we can help each other learn even faster."

The boy is smooth, Clarke thought. Knowing each other didn't mean much, but at the same time it couldn't hurt. It would likely make the transition easier rather than being thrown in with strangers far from home. Homesickness was more of a problem than people realised, particularly when combined with sixteen hour days. What really mattered was would they fit in and not reflect badly on him for sending them.

"Turn sideways."

Jimmy turned and nudged Harry to do the same.

"Fine, now let me see your hands."

They both turned and put out their hands. Clarke looked at them closely.

"I suppose you wonder why I did that."

They nodded.

"First, seeing someone's profile lets me check for slouching. Your hands? You would be surprised how many boys going for their first interview have dirty or ragged nails. My clients notice these things.

"Harry, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"You have been quiet. Do you feel the same way."

"Yes, sir. Definitely. I couldn't say it any better than Jimmy has."

He pursed his lips as he opened a book on his desk.

"Believe it or not, your timing could not be better. The Duke of Herinworth is expanding his household and his butler sent in a request just this morning looking for three new footmen and, more importantly for you, since these are junior you will be trained. He has been our client for years and I am always very selective about whom I send along. I do not post anything on the open register until I have reviewed my own list. But these are starting positions and I really do not have anyone suitable."

He took two pieces of paper from a small pile and quickly wrote something on each.

"This is the location and my note of introduction for you each. His butler will be interviewing Monday next. I will confirm with him by post that you both will be there and send along my assessment. You will need to take the morning train to be there by eleven. It is a short walk from the station. Just ask the station master for directions."

Jimmy hesitated.

"So, would we be hired together?"

"That will be for him to decide. But as a pair, I think he will find you, shall we say, interesting."

As they left the office, Jimmy slapped Harry on the back.

"See, I told you."

"What did he mean by 'interesting'?"

"I don't know. Who cares? You don't seem all that happy, though. Never thought I would be the one doing the talking and you standing there like a stump."

"Of course I'm happy. I figured he only need to hear from one of us and you're always ready with a bit of flannel if need be."

"Well, it was the truth or close enough to it. Do you have enough money for the train?"

"My father will give me what I need. He'll just be glad that I might be working soon."

They continued home, talking about what was going to happen and what their new lives would be like. As they reached their street, Jimmy pulled Harry toward the back alley and into a corner that was hidden by high walls. He shoved him up against one of them and had his hand down his trousers before Harry knew it.

"Christ, Jimmy, what if someone sees us."

He pushed him away.

"All right, then I'll settle for a kiss."

He pinned Harry's shoulders to the wall and crushed their mouths together, biting Harry's lower lip, grinding his crotch against him, feeling him stiffen. Harry let out a slight gasp, but, laughing, pushed him away again.

"What has gotten in to you?"

"Oh, that's not the point, Harry. It's what I want to get into me."

"Stop. It's not going to happen here. You know that."

"How about tonight? You can come over. We can say we're planning the trip."

"With your parents downstairs? Not bloody likely."

"Where's the Harry that's always up for an adventure?"

"Adventure, yes. Disaster, no."

"Oh, all right. Come over tonight anyway. If we have a chance we can have a bit of fun. If not we really do have to talk some more."

When Harry arrived, Jimmy had come to his senses and they only talked. The next day Jimmy went to the station to find out the cost of the trip and the times of the trains. On the Monday they boarded the train and arrived before ten-thirty. The walk took about fifteen minutes. As they rounded the last bend the house loomed over them, rising four storeys, the turrets on either side of the entrance and on the ends another twenty feet above that and the front seemed to go on forever. Jimmy stopped dead in his tracks.

"It's enormous. Where do we go? At the back, right?"

Harry nodded. As they passed one of the gardeners he asked how to find the right door. Before they rang at the back entrance they checked each other out. Jimmy smoothed Harry's hair after he took off his cap; Harry wiped a bit of dirt from Jimmy's face with his handkerchief. They dusted the dirt of the road from the bottoms of their pants.

"All right. I think we're ready."

The door was answered by a boy not much older than themselves.

"Yes."

"We're here for an interview with Mr. Deacon."

"Come in."

He closed the door and pointed to a long bench.

"You can sit there and I'll tell him you're here."

He disappeared down the hallway.

Jimmy leaned over and whispered.

"What are we getting into?"

Harry squeezed his knee.

"I don't know, but let's hope it's together."

In a few minutes the boy reappeared.

"Follow me."

Once again he set off down the hall, this time with Jimmy and Harry trailing after him. They passed by a room with a long table and the kitchen where the smell of food reminded Harry that he was hungry. They could hear the sound of women talking and the clinking of dishes and glasses from what they assumed was the scullery. Finally they arrived at a closed door. The boy knocked and opened it.

"Just go in."

They found themselves in a good-sized room. The man behind the desk was probably in his late forties, slim with greying hair. He didn't stand up so there was no way of knowing how tall he was.

"Did you bring your introductions?

"Yes, sir," they answered in unison and handed them over.

He took them and gave them a cursory glance.

"Jimmy Kent and Harry Stephens?" looking at each of them in turn.

"Yes, sir." Once again in unison.

"First, you address me as Mr. Deacon, not 'sir'. Is that understood?"

They both nodded.

"Secondly, when I ask you something, answer me. Do not nod."

Jimmy began to think this was not going well.

Anthony Deacon had seen this so often before. Men, really only boys, who knew little or nothing about service in large house. Still, that was the way most of them started and what he expected. Part of his job was to ensure they were trained properly. He left that to the under butler and first footman or one of the others, of course, but he still had to feel comfortable that it was being done. He ignored them while he reread Clarke's letter. He felt that they were likely of the type that would fit well into the house. They had the proper look that Deacon always asked for. They had passed his own basic standards of carriage and cleanliness. The only thing he noted was that they wanted to work in the same place. In itself an unusual request, but he thought it showed some initiative that they would even ask. Initiative being another trait that Deacon liked to see as long as it didn't overstep his authority.

"It's unusual for me to interview two men together, but Mr. Clarke believes that both of you would be suitable as footmen. I will agree with him that you seem to have the proper bearing and appearance at least."

Glancing to his side, Jimmy could see the hint of a smile on Harry's lips.

"However, I will still want to speak to you individually to determine if I am correct. "

He nodded at Harry.

"Please wait in the hallway."

Harry closed the door behind him and stood against the wall. He could feel the sweat soaking his armpits. This was far from a sure thing. He just hoped he didn't fuck it up when his time came. After a few minutes, the boy who had answered the door peered around the corner, motioning him over.

"What's your name?"

"Harry."

"And your friend?"

"Jimmy."

"Don't worry, Harry. As long as you don't make a complete ass of yourself you should have the job."

"How can you be so sure."

"Look at me. What do you see?

Harry stepped back to get a better look. The boy was about his height and build, dark hair, handsome, with an easy smile.

"Remind you of anyone? Old Clarke knows Deacon's taste."

"Are you saying that we'll have to . . .?"

"Oh no, he likes to look, but not touch. As long as you don't have a problem with that you and your friend will be just fine. He wouldn't risk his reputation even if he wanted to. Besides, he's a decent old sod. There are a couple of others here you'll need to take care around for that and other reasons, but I'll tell you about them later"

The door opened behind him and Jimmy stepped out.

"Harry, he wants to see you now."

As he passed Jimmy he whispered.

"Pack your bags, Jimmy boy."

  



	4. Chapter 4

Jimmy reached over and turned off the light. He stretched, then slid down under the covers and lay staring at the ceiling. Looking back, his new job with the Duke of Herinworth seemed to cap the best summer he could remember.

On the walk back to the station Jimmy could hardly contain himself. They had gotten the jobs, even been measured for uniforms.

"I told you we'd pull it off. This is exactly what we wanted."

Harry was walking a step behind him at this point.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Jimmy reached back, grabbing his arm and pulling him forward.

"What's wrong? I thought you would be happy."

"I am because we'll be working together, but it was something that boy said to me in the hallway."

"Edward. His name is Edward."

"So you talked to him too? Did he tell you about Deacon?"

"Yes. So? It doesn't sound like he'll be a problem."

"No, it was something else he said. About other people to look out for."

"Why does that bother you? Not everyone is going to like us, but we can watch each other's backs if we have to. Besides, you don't know what he meant, do you?"

"No, I guess not, just worrying a bit."

"Come on. We don't want to miss the train."

On the ride home, Harry still felt uneasy, but he really didn't know why. But by the time they arrived back the following Monday, suitcases in tow, he had forgotten that he had been concerned.

Edward took them upstairs to their room.

"There are a lot of servants here. Eighteen footmen just to start, so not everyone gets a room to himself. The first and second footmen do, but the rest of us share. There are a few empty rooms here in the men's quarters, but some are for guests' valets and some are just spare, not to be used."

Jimmy looked around. Two beds separated by a small table, a large wardrobe he assumed they would have to share and two good-sized dressers. There was a desk tucked into an alcove by the window, a washstand and a couple of chairs on another wall. Everything seemed to be new. A bit crowded, but otherwise very comfortable.

"We don't mind, do we Harry."

Harry, who had gone to the window to look out, came back to stand beside them. Out of Edward's sight, his hand caught and held Jimmy's for a moment.

"Not at all."

"You're lucky you already know each other. Never know who you might end up sharing with otherwise. You can unpack and change into your uniforms, then come down to the servants' hall when you're done. Just take the same stairs we used to get up here. Never the main stairs. John Winsloe, the first footman, will take it from there."

He turned as he was leaving.

"He'll tell you all the rules and set up someone to train you, but I'll tell you the things he doesn't. I've been here a year now and it's surprising what you learn that has nothing to do with being a footman."

When they reached the servants' hall, the first footman was waiting for them. Edward was also there, standing to one side.

"I'm John Winsloe. Which one of you is Jimmy?"

"I am."

"That makes you Harry."

"Yes."

"Fine. Here it is in a nutshell.

"Do not speak to family or guests unless spoken to. If you are spoken to, look directly at them and say only what needs to be said. Otherwise if you meet any of them in a room or in the hallways, stand to one side. No need to make eye contact. You are not much more than a piece of furniture.

"When you are dealing with your fellow servants, anyone who is above you is addressed as Mr. That includes myself and Charles Stenton, the second footman. Women are Mrs. or occasionally Miss. Idle conversation is to be reserved for the servants' hall or on your own time. You are never to talk to any of the female servants except as needed to perform your duties. Once again, here or on your own time is different. However, Mr. Deacon still expects you to act with a sense of decorum.

"This is a busy house. There are fourteen upstairs. The Duke usually entertains twice weekly. A hundred people or more is not uncommon, but at least twenty. Gentlemen who stay overnight usually bring their own valets, but after some proper training you will be expected to fill in as necessary.

"You will begin work at seven in the morning and probably not retire until ten at night. You are fortunate in that you will have a full day, not a half day, off every fortnight.

"I am usually too busy to deal directly with you, but that does not mean that you cannot approach me if you have something to ask or say."

As he turned to leave, he nodded toward Edward.

"Edward will take you to Mr. Stenton who will explain who is upstairs and how to address them, then arrange the start of your training."

After he had gone, Edward started to laugh.

"So, boys, welcome to service. Those are the rules, but we all know rules can be broken. Just don't get caught too often. Winsloe can be a bit of a prick, but he knows his stuff and he meant it when he said you could talk to him if you have to. But you won't need him when you've got me. Let's go find Stenton."

The first day went quickly. Despite what Winsloe had said about being busy, they had time for a few breaks other than meals. In the evening there was a large dinner party and they were to be positioned at the bottom of the table. Stenton indicated which family members would be sitting at each place and then told them they were only to watch how the other footmen worked. No one seemed to take any notice of them. It was nine-thirty by the time they got back to the hall. Two other footmen were there as well, talking to a couple of housemaids. They sat down at the far end of the room.

"Jesus, Harry, my feet are killing me."

Edward walked through the door behind them

"You'll get used to it. I'm going outside for a cigarette, want to join me."

"We don't smoke."

"You don't have to. But it's more private."

They followed him out the door into a deserted yard with a few benches. He sat down, lit his cigarette and took a deep drag.

"God, I needed that. Sit down."

Harry dropped down beside him and Jimmy sat opposite.

"All right. Here's what you need to know. Stenton's an arsehole. Those two at the end of the table will tell him everything and if it's not true they make it up, so watch yourselves. I'm pretty sure the tall one is fucking one of those housemaids. Wouldn't mind her myself, but not after he's had her. There's another one I've got my eye on anyway."

He paused.

"Don't look so shocked. Deacon's decorum be damned. Where there's a will there's a way."

He took another drag and leaned back, exhaling a smoke ring.

"There's a hall boy you need to keep an eye on as well. Jackson, sneaky little bastard; I'll point him out. I've seen him trip up one of the other footmen who was carrying food to the dining room. No reason, just to be miserable. Otherwise, not much to worry about."

He looked at them.

"Tough first day?"

Jimmy nodded.

"Yeah. I'm tired. I think we both need to get to bed."

"All right. I'm going to finish this and then go myself. I'm in the room next to you by the way."

As they stood up to go, Edward stopped them.

"How long have you two been together?"

Jimmy sensed Harry tense beside him.

"Uh . . we've known each other for years."

"That's not what I mean."

He nodded at Harry.

"Didn't think I saw the little hand play, did you?"

He watched the panic spread across their faces.

"Don't worry, I don't give a shit what you do. It's none of my business. Can't say that others would feel the same way though. So be careful."

He stubbed out the cigarette.

"You've already had a taste of what this life is like. From what I've seen it doesn't get better. Deacon, Winsloe, Stenton. All of them alone. The job is what they have. So if you're lucky enough to find a bit of happiness, take it before the job takes you."

As he got up he broke into a big smile.

"But boys, try to keep it quiet tonight. I need my sleep."

In the light from the hall window he could see Jimmy redden, but noticed that Harry just smiled.

"Only joking."

They said good night to Edward when they reached the men's quarters and went into their own room. After they got undressed and settled into their beds, Jimmy got up again to kiss Harry.

"What was that for."

"I'm too tired for anything else. Do you mind?"

"No. We'll have other nights."

As he climbed back into bed, Harry asked, "Do you think I was too obvious?"

"I don't know. What Edward saw wasn't out in the open really. We were lucky it was him though. Let's just take his advice and be careful. We'll be fine in our room, but not anywhere else in the house."

Jimmy yawned.

"Blow out the candle, will you."

After a few minutes of lying in the darkness, one last thought came to him before he drifted off.

"I wonder if we can get our days off together."

Harry was already fast asleep.

  



	5. Chapter 5

  
The first few weeks were a blur for Jimmy; there was so much to do and a lot of little things to remember. He had expected that they would be working together, but each of them was assigned to another footman who was to teach them the ropes. Jimmy got Edward and Harry a rather dour man named Arthur. He and Edward got along famously, but he sensed Harry wasn't so sure about Arthur. When asked, though, he said everything was fine.

They lay in Jimmy's bed one night after they had been there about three months. Even if they didn't have sex they tried to share a bed at the beginning of each night. Sometimes one of them would be later coming up than the other, but the candle was still lit and whoever was in bed would shift over to make room. Harry's head lay on his chest while Jimmy chatted about his day.

"Oh, and I asked again if we could have our day off together."

"Hmm?"

"Stenton glared at me and said no, of course. I politely pointed out that he let Carmichael and Baxter be off together almost every time they asked. He just shrugged and walked away. Edward warned us about those two. I guess that's the reward they get for being snitches. Not much we can do about it."

"No."

Jimmy sat up so he could see his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Stop that. There's been something bothering you for a while, but tonight it's like you're not here."

Harry sighed as he got up and walked to the window.

"I hate this."

"Us?"

"No, never us. Us is what has made it bearable. This place, this work, these people. It's nothing like what I thought it would be. I can't do it."

"I've never heard you talk like this before."

He turned to face Jimmy, propping himself against the desk.

"I watch everyone else. It seems so easy. Me? I trip over my own feet all the time and if someone speaks to me I stammer. I don't know what's wrong, that's not me. I forget what I'm supposed to do or I don't know what to do with my hands or I spill something. You heard me drop that tray of food yesterday. Earlier in the week I somehow managed to dip my cuff into the fucking soup. I knocked the glass out of someone's hand last week. I seem to do things like that at least once a day and it never goes unnoticed. I see Stenton watching me, or worse yet, Deacon. If they don't see then I know either Carmichael or Baxter make sure they know. There are times, too many times, I just want to throw the food down and run."

"But it's not all serving food."

"No. I can lift and move things, but that's only part of the job. It's the rest .... "

His voice trailed off.

"I never knew."

Harry walked back over and sat on the bed beside him.

"You wouldn't. We're hardly ever together when we work. Maybe that's part of it. And when we are you're too busy to notice. It's like you know exactly what to do and when to do it."

"Why didn't you say anything before tonight. We talk every night; I thought we had no secrets. I could have helped."

"I kept thinking I would get better, that I would get used to it. And how could you have helped? Followed me around, fixing my mistakes? Who do you think would let that happen?"

He leaned back and Jimmy he wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close.

"I have to see Deacon tomorrow."

"Christ, Harry, it can't be as bad as all that. What are we going to do?"

"We aren't going to do anything. I don't know what he's going to say."

He knew damn well what he was going to say. He turned around and climbed into bed beside Jimmy once again.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Jimmy kissed him then let his fingers traced the outline of his lips.

"You never need to ask."

When he woke the next morning, Harry was spooned against him, his hand clutching his arm tightly across his chest.

They got ready in silence. As they were about to leave, Harry reached up and pushed a wave of hair off Jimmy's forehead.

"Always the same one."

"When do you see Deacon?

"After breakfast."

Jimmy tried to sound convincing.

"Everything will be all right."

Jimmy worried the rest of the morning, waiting until he could see Harry at breakfast. They sat beside one another as they always did, but neither of them ate much. Before they got up to leave, Jimmy patted his thigh under the table.

Harry passed Edward standing in the hallway as he approached Deacon's open door. He looked up from his desk and motioned him inside.

"Close the door, please."

He paused as if collecting his thoughts. He never liked this part, but it was his job to ensure the house ran smoothly. There was no use beating around the bush.

"Harry, I do not think you are suitable to be a footman. It is disappointing because I believe you try your best. I do however think you are a good worker and if I had another type of position I would consider offering it to you. That being said, I am afraid I am going to have to let you go. You will receive two weeks' wages, but I cannot give you a letter of reference except one to commend you for your efforts. I am sure you understand that."

Harry nodded.

"Can I stay the day and leave tomorrow morning?"

"No, I am sorry."

He stood up and handed him an envelope.

"This contains your wages and your letter. Please pack your things and leave as soon as you have finished. You will easily make the eleven o'clock train. Edward is outside. He will help if you need him."

As he left the office, he felt his legs start to shake. Edward was beside him before he knew it.

"Edward, can you find Jimmy while I pack? I need to see him."

Edward nodded.

"I'll take over whatever he's doing and send him up."

Edward knew where Jimmy was working and found him moving some furniture.

"You need to go see Harry right now. He's leaving. I'll cover for you as long as you need."

Jimmy took the stairs two steps at a time and ran down the hall to their room. Harry had already changed and was folding clothes into his suitcase. When he turned to him, he could tell he had been crying. Jimmy just took him into his arms.

"Don't, Jimmy. What if someone sees?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm going with you."

Harry pushed him away.

"Don't be a fool. I can't have both of us on the street. Do you want me to feel worse than I already do?"

"What are you going to do?"

"Go back home for now. Maybe my father can get me on at the factory. I couldn't hate it any more than here. If nothing else there's always the army I guess."

Jimmy sat down on his bed.

"It just felt so right. I thought we would always be together. Now I'll probably never see you again."

Harry sat beside him and kissed his hand.

"No matter what, you'll never lose me. You know that."

"That doesn't help much."

Harry got up to finish packing. He glanced around the room to make sure he hadn't left anything, trying to put off the inevitable, then closed his suitcase. When he turned to Jimmy he was crying again.

"I've known you all my life and I think I've loved you just as long."

They had never talked about love. Jimmy just assumed he didn't have to say it. He grabbed him by the hands and pulled him down until their lips met. One last hungry kiss.

He stood up, wiping the tears, and grabbed his case.

"You better write."

Harry smiled back at him sadly.

"So much you'll get tired of hearing from me."

He watched as he closed the door behind him. That could never happen. He spent the rest of the day in a daze. Every now and then he would pass Edward and see his look of concern. It was good to know he still had a friend, but it wasn't much comfort.

As he climbed the stairs to his room, Edward caught up with him.

"Are you all right? Do you want to talk?"

"No, not tonight. I just want to be alone."

"You know where my room is if you change your mind."

He opened the door into the room. From the dim light of the candle he could see that Harry's bed had been stripped, leaving just the bare mattress. Sitting down on his own bed, he just stared at it. It hadn't taken long for any trace of him to disappear. He felt numb. All those plans, this adventure together, had ended with him in a room all by himself. The numbness dissolved into sobs and he buried his face in his pillow. Finally, cried out, he undressed and got into bed. The next morning he found himself sleeping on Harry's bed.

Although he wasn't sure how, he got through that day and the next. On the third, Harry's letter arrived. He put it into his pocket so he could read it that night.  



	6. Chapter 6

It was late when he finally got to his room. Today hadn't been a good one. If this had been how Harry felt, he understood how frustrated he had been. But he had his letter to read; that would make things better. He noticed that Harry's bed had been made. That could only mean someone would be moving in with him soon. He wasn't sure he liked that, but there was nothing he could do about it. After putting the candle on the desk, he pulled the envelope from his pocket. As he sat down, he slit it with a letter opener he had borrowed. It would go back in the morning.

He was surprised to find three pages, written on both sides. There couldn't be that much to tell in two days, but he wasn't going to complain. He looked at the date an saw he had actually written it the same day he left. As he read it there wasn't much news, but he started to realise this was almost like their nightly conversations, just chat about nothing in particular. Somehow that felt comforting. One thing that he did say was that there were no jobs at the factory since they had just gone on strike and that it looked to be a long one. At the end he repeated what he had said the day he left, _You'll never lose me_. Jimmy reread the letter, then started his own. His too didn't have much to say, but he knew that didn't matter. When he finished he took Harry's letter and put it in one his drawers. That would have to do until he bought something to keep it in; something with a lock just in case.

About a week later he met the boy who was to share his room. When he opened the door he almost walked into him standing at Harry's dresser. _It's not Harry's now, remember_. Wilf Davis seemed to be nice enough, friendly with a big smile, but Jimmy wasn't in the mood to talk. After a few words he walked away and sat down at the desk. He had another letter from Harry and that's all that mattered.

"Letter from home?"

"Sort of."

"I'll leave you to it then."

_Christ, kindness won't hurt. He's probably lonely and a bit scared._ He turned to him.

"I don't mean to be rude, but I really want to read this. Maybe we'll talk later."

Wilf's face broke into a grin.

"I'd like that."

Jimmy went back to his letter. More news about the hunt for work. Harry had to find something soon because with his father on strike money was tight. The army was recruiting but that still was the last resort. He had come across a possibility that might pan out, but he didn't go into any details, just that he was going to try something different. This time he had signed the letter, "Love, Harry." He folded that letter back into the envelope and went to his dresser where he unlocked the new box he had bought and put it inside, being careful to relock it. He stripped down to his underwear and climbed into bed. As he reached over to blow out the candle he realised he had forgotten about Wilf who was looking at him expectantly.

"So Wilf, tell me about yourself."

It was a bad choice of words since it seemed to open a floodgate. He was one of nine boys, this was the first time he had a bed to himself, he was excited about getting the job and on and on. Jimmy half listened, answering any of his questions with as little information as he could, praying he would stop. Finally he did.

"Look, we need to get to sleep. You only got a sample today. Tomorrow you're going to find out just how tiring this job can be."

This time he succeeded in blowing out the candle. He lay for a minute, thinking about what had happened to Harry.

"You know, if you have questions, if anything is bothering you, don't be afraid to talk to me. I'll help if I can."

"Thanks. Night, Jimmy."

He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, but he woke in the middle of the night to a muffled groan from Wilf.

"What's wrong?"

"Uh .... nothing."

Then it dawned on him and he started to chuckle. This would go in his letter to Harry tomorrow.

"Yeah, well hurry up and finish doing nothing so I can get back to sleep."

"I have. But, just to warn you, I'll probably be doing nothing again tomorrow night."

That changed Jimmy's chuckle to outright laughter as Wilf giggled.

"Lord, Wilf, I think living with you is going to be interesting."

As he fell back asleep he realised that was the first time he had laughed since Harry had left.

It surprised Jimmy how having Wilf there at night helped. It wasn't the same as Harry by any means, but he always seemed to be able to make him laugh. His impersonations of Deacon, Winsloe, Stenton and his henchmen, Tweedledum and Tweedledee as he called them, were spot on, picking up on their mannerisms as well as their voices. When he had a letter to read, Wilf knew that he should mind his own business for a while, but he spotted the sadness that usually went with the letter even though Jimmy was hardly aware of it himself. Those nights he tried to make an extra effort to make him laugh.

Harry's letters had said nothing much about a job for a couple of weeks, then Jimmy got a very short one.

_Jimmy_  
Told you I would find something and believe it or not Deacon's letter helped. Remember that big tailor shop up on Malone, the really good one? They were looking for a shop assistant who they could train. I know it's not much but I got it and the pay is far better than I thought it would be. When they asked why I left my last job, I said I didn't feel I wanted to be in service. That's where Deacon's letter came in. He didn't mention why I left, just that he was sorry to lose someone who was eager and worked as hard as I did. And I think some of the things I learned and, even better, remembered helped. How to stand, how to walk. The owner said he was impressed by my confidence. Maybe all it took was getting away from there to get my old self back. More later.  
Love, Harry  
P.S. Kiss Deacon for me.

Jimmy started putting together a plan he had been thinking about. Now that Harry was settled and wouldn't be off in the far reaches of the Empire with the army, he was going to visit. He could always say he was going home for his day off. It was at least a two hour train ride, but just the chance of actually seeing Harry again had been at the back of his mind almost as long as they had been apart. He just needed to find out what time off Harry had and when so he could match his own day. It took a bit of back and forth between the two of them, but three weeks later Jimmy stepped off the early train and headed for home. Harry only had the afternoon off, so he had lots of time to see his parents and get caught up on any news before that. He still had no idea what they would do for the time they had, but it really didn't matter as long as they were together again, even for a few hours.

Jimmy paced his parents' front room, checking the clock more often than needed. Finally a knock at the door brought him running into the hall. Almost before Harry was through the door, Jimmy had grabbed him in a hug, lifting him off his feet.

"You don't know how much I've missed you."

"Be careful. Where are your parents?"

Jimmy pulled him into the front room.

"My father had to go out and my mother's in the kitchen. Besides we're just friends happy to see one another."

He shoved him against the door jamb, hooking his hands into the waistband of his trousers, then pulling him forward as he kissed him. When Harry finally could breathe again, he gently pushed him away.

"I don't think we should be this happy."

Jimmy reached down and rubbed his fly, feeling the firmness of his cock.

"Are you sure? Let's go upstairs. My bedroom is just waiting."

"Not a good idea."

"It will be if you can keep quiet."

Despite his better judgement, Harry knew he desperately wanted Jimmy and was willing to take the chance of getting caught.

"Mother, I'm going to show Harry what I brought him."

"All right dear."

Harry almost burst out laughing as he grabbed Jimmy's ass and whispered into his ear.

"I brought you something too."

Harry's trousers and underwear were around his ankles before Jimmy had closed the door. He stepped out of his own and kicked them to the side before pushing Harry back on the bed. The creak startled them.

"Shit."

He pulled Harry up and lifted him onto the desk, spreading his legs, bending to lick at the stickiness of his cock. From the quiet moans, he could tell that this wouldn't take long. As he sucked his cock deep into his throat, feeling it pulse against his tongue, he reached up to stifle him as he got louder. He released him.

"I said be quiet."

"Yeah," Harry panted, "Yeah."

Jimmy pulled his head towards him, forcing his lips apart and slipping his tongue inside while his free hand stroked his cock. He felt Harry's hips buck and thrash and watched as his eyes closed to slits. He stopped, breathing in Harry's startled gasp.

"Oh God. Don't."

He gave him another caress and stopped again. Another and again. Twice more, feeling Harry strain as he grabbed the edge of the dresser and forced himself up. He held his cock tight against his belly, rubbing the sensitive flesh just beneath the head with his thumb. One long moan rose from Harry's chest and smothered itself in Jimmy's mouth. As he came, he arched, pressing his head against the wall at the back of the desk. It seemed to go on forever, but it still wasn't long enough. He was still shuddering as Jimmy stood up and pulled him forward so his own cock rubbed across his belly. A few quick strokes and Jimmy collapsed on top of him, grinding as hot ropes shot onto Harry's stomach.

They lay for a moment before Jimmy stood up unsteadily.

"So how did you like your present?"

"Better than Christmas."

They both dressed quickly. Jimmy winced slightly as he felt the stickiness plaster itself to his underwear. _Should have thought of that_.

They went downstairs into the front room again, sitting close together on the small chesterfield. They talked quietly about Harry's job, about the things that were happening with Jimmy, about anything that came to mind. Jimmy looked at the clock. He took Harry's hand knowing he would hear his mother coming and be able to let go.

"I have to catch the train soon. I want more than this, you know that. I probably won't be able to get back for a month or so."

"I know, but there's not much we can do."

"Maybe I can find something closer. Still not the best but we might work something out."

"Change jobs you mean? Would you be able to so soon."

"Maybe not right away, but a couple of the other footmen have moved on after about a year. It would all depend on finding the right position. I've got to hope that will happen. I don't want to be without you. I never thought much about destiny before, but I believe that ours is together. Even if it's not all the time, it has to be more often than this."

"I'm sorry I put you through this."

"What, not having to stay where you were miserable? I love you too much to make you do that."

There, he said it. Sex could mean anything. Signing a letter "Love" meant little. He had been wrong. You couldn't just assume someone knew, you had to say it. Saying it to someone's face and watching their eyes shine in return touched something profound.

  



	7. Chapter 7

Over the next year, Jimmy only managed to see Harry three times. Something always seemed to interfere with his plans, but they kept up their steady stream of letters. Shortly after he got back the first time he wrote Harry about his plan. Part of it needed Harry to keep an eye on the local newspaper and to visit the servants' registry office weekly on his half day off, looking for a position. There were one or two, but Jimmy never got an interview for them. That wasn't all that surprising, but it was still frustrating. Finally he did hear back on a position of footman with Lady Anstruther. The location was ideal, just on the outskirts of the city and on a tram line. If he got it he would be no more than a half hour from Harry. He arranged the interview for his day off.

Melvin Nesbitt answered the door himself. That wasn't something he would normally do, but the last footman had left without notice and he had just sent his only hall boy on an errand. He had a temporary replacement for the footman, but he wasn't in until the afternoon

"Jimmy Kent to see Mr. Nesbitt."

"I am Mr. Nesbitt. Please follow me."

He settled into his chair and looked him over carefully, nodding to himself. He seemed very presentable and not the least bit nervous, always a good sign. Her Ladyship would appreciate his good looks, something she expected in a footman.

"Take a seat. Jimmy, not James?"

"It's always been Jimmy, but if that's not suitable, then James is perfectly all right."

That was a lie, but the job mattered more than anything at the moment.

"No, I see no problem with 'Jimmy'. I understand from your letter you have been with the Duke of Herinworth almost sixteen months. How did you get that position?"

"Through Mr. Clarke at the registry."

Nesbitt had used Clarke before. As a matter of fact that's where his temporary footman came from. He was usually very reliable when he chose someone.

"And why do you want to leave now?"

"I really appreciate the opportunity I was given and have learned a lot, but I would like to work for a smaller house. My goal is to someday be a butler. In a smaller house I would be able to gain a wider range of experience and benefit directly from working under a well-established butler such as yourself. I would be able to be of better service to someone like Lady Anstruther if I knew more. I would just hope that if I get the position you would be willing to share your knowledge."

Nesbitt almost smiled. The boy was smooth, knowing just what to say and adding just enough flattery without sounding insincere.

"I see you are from the area."

"Yes, Mr. Nesbitt. My parents are only half an hour away."

"I suppose that too is a benefit."

Jimmy thought of Harry. Benefit wasn't quite the word.

"Yes, but the job and the family come first."

"In this case, there is only Her Ladyship and on occasion her grandson. Her Ladyship entertains frequently, sometimes large numbers that currently requiring hiring temporary staff. She does go visiting almost every day and a footman must accompany her. Other than the current vacancy of footman, the male staff is myself and one hall boy. I have convinced Her Ladyship to add another footman in a few months, but for now do you think you could manage with so few?"

When he mentioned a second footman, Jimmy immediately thought of Wilf. He would first have to get the job himself, but from what he knew of Wilf this was something he would like.

"Of course I don't know the exact circumstances, but I've never been afraid of hard work. In fact I think it makes me try to do even better."

"Very good. Would you wait outside for a moment."

Nesbitt liked what he saw and heard. He had interviewed two others but this one was by far the best. Whether or not he meant what he said was another matter, only time would tell, but he had been without a full time footman for almost a month and Her Ladyship was becoming somewhat annoyed by the inconvenience. He doubted he would do any better and his apparent eagerness could only be an advantage. There was something about him that didn't quite ring true, but he believed that was not related to his ability to do the job. He walked to the door and brought Jimmy back in.

"I normally would wait to send a letter, but I prefer not to delay at this point. I would like to offer you the position. I realise it is short notice, but would you be able to start a week Monday?"

Jimmy could hardly contain his excitement, but managed a broad smile instead.

"Thank you, Mr. Nesbitt. A week Monday should be no problem at all."

Jimmy hadn't been able to arrange his day off to coincide with Harry's and he didn't want to chance interrupting him at work, so he went to his parents and told his mother about the job and asked her to tell Harry. From her smile and the hug he got, he knew she was happy he would be closer to home. He caught the next train back and immediately went to his room and wrote his letter of resignation, then sought out Stenton to give it to him. He took it, read it and just ignored him. _Arsehole_.

That night he told Wilf.

"So when do you leave?"

"I have to start in a little over a week, so soon."

Wilf was quiet for a while. When he spoke his voice seemed to catch in his throat.

"I'm going to miss you."

"Wilf, you're one of the reasons I'll be sorry to leave. I'm going to miss hearing you do nothing at night."

That broke the air of sadness. Jimmy went on to talk a little about the job and to ask if Wilf might be interested in working there as well, likely as second footman.

"Look, you know I can't promise anything."

"If you can put in a good word though, then you bet I would want to."

A week later he was packed and ready to go. He found Edward in a quiet corner of the house and said goodbye.

"We haven't had a chance to talk, but this has something to do with Harry, right?"

Normally he would have denied it, but not with Edward.

"Yes."

Edward nodded, wondering if he would ever find anyone who meant that much to him. He surprised Jimmy with a hug.

"You'll write?

"Yes, of course."

He and Harry had settled into a routine almost immediately. Their half days were matched and they even managed to meet a few evenings each month. While it wasn't ideal, they were together. When Nesbitt decided to hire his second footman, Jimmy was able to convince him to interview Wilf. Nesbitt was more than satisfied with Jimmy, despite some remaining misgivings of another nature, so he was willing to listen to his suggestion. Wilf's interview went well, thanks in part to the information from Jimmy about what to say. He was hired a week later. By mid-1914 things seemed to be going the way he wanted. That changed in late July.

Harry and Jimmy were sitting on a park bench enjoying the late summer afternoon.

"Are you going to enlist? I think we should. I don't want to miss out. It's supposed to be over by Christmas."

Jimmy thought that made no sense. If they knew it was going to over by Christmas, why did they need more soldiers. Was this just going to be another of their adventures? The last one hadn't turned out so well.

"I don't know. I'm not sure either of us is soldier material."

"Come on, Jimmy. They train you. Beside you don't want Fritz to win, do you?"

"But you just said .... Oh, never mind."

"Well, even if you don't, I will. I just thought we could do this together."

Jimmy was silent. Less than a year after finally getting back together, Harry would be off God knows where while he catered to old lady Anstruther. He might as well have stayed with the Duke.

"All right. Why not."

"That's my boy."

Within a week they had both left their positions and enlisted. Because they came in together they ended up in the same company and eventually the same platoon and section. Training was harder than they expected, but they were used to taking orders so at least that wasn't a problem. By early 1915 they were in France, assigned to reserves at the rear for a few weeks before finally being rotated to the front. Jimmy thought he knew what to expect, but all the training in the world could never prepare him for hell. The sound of men yelling and screaming, exploding shells sending shrapnel so close to his head he felt its heat, the vibration from a bayonet tearing though cloth and flesh. The cold and the mud and the sickness and the death.

Jimmy woke in a cold sweat, his whole body trembling. He should have asked Daniel to stay. The nightmares were back, haunted by images he thought he had laid to rest. One of the Trimble twins had died at Ypres. Edward at Passchendaele. His own father at the Somme. Wilf had lost an arm. So many others. All these fucking ghosts.

  



	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: Character Death**

Jimmy knew he wouldn't get any more sleep tonight. He lay staring at the ceiling as the last days of the war returned to haunt him.

At the beginning of August 1918 he was just outside of Amiens. Jimmy swore he seemed to have spent his entire time in France no more than 30 miles from Amiens. Of his original section of twelve men only Harry, Sam Chadwick, a big Lancashire man, and he had survived; many of the replacements too had been killed or so badly wounded that they never came back. Exhaustion had set in long ago so the chance to rotate to the rear for a break was always welcome.

He and Harry always tried to get billeted together. Sometimes they couldn't, but this time they were placed with an old couple in the village. Neither he nor Harry spoke much French and the couple little English, but they somehow managed to realise that they would have to share a bed.

"Je suis désolée," the old woman offered, pointing at the bed and then around the room. Somehow they made her understand that they had no problem with the arrangement. They got something to eat and drink at the local _estaminet_ , preferring food that had a resemblance to English rather than French, before climbing into bed. Jimmy rolled onto his side.

"A real bed feels good after so much time sleeping in those trenches."

Harry sighed and pulled him close.

"Feels even better to hold you without worrying about being caught. I can think of something else that will feel good too."

He slid his hand between Jimmy's thighs, worming his fingers back and spreading his cheeks.

"Roll over."

Harry raised himself so Jimmy could slide underneath. He stretched out on top, letting his cock slip back and forth along the small of his back while he kissed the nape of his neck and lightly bit his ears. He tucked one hand under Jimmy's belly to grab his cock, feeling him push against his closed fist. Never letting go, he knelt up and lifted Jimmy to his hands and knees, forcing his legs apart. He spit on his hand a few times and slathered it on his cock, then used his fingers to tease open Jimmy's hole, listening to him gasp as he pushed in and out. He switched hands using the spit-covered one to stroke Jimmy while he forced his back down with the other. His cock slid in easily as Jimmy pushed back. He began to rock back and forth in time to the movements of his hand, thrusting Jimmy forward so his fist buried deep in his groin. Jimmy grunted with each push.

Harry could tell by the shallow breaths that seemed to come in whimpers that he was close. It had been so long since they had been together that holding back was almost impossible. He leaned back and brought him up to rest against him while Jimmy's hands pushed against his thighs. His free arm wrapped across his chest as Jimmy lifted and dropped repeatedly. Finally he buried his cock deep inside as he felt the first surge. This time he bit the side of Jimmy's neck hard, almost breaking the skin. Jimmy hardly noticed. His head was thrown back, his mouth opened in a silent howl; he had reached his own climax almost at the same time. Harry continued to play with his cock long after he had finished, feeling the waves of pleasure continue to shake his body. Finally he pulled out and they dropped side by side onto the bed. Jimmy raised his arm so Harry could shift closer, settling his head on his chest.

"Do you think this will ever end? Will we ever be just Jimmy and Harry again?"

"You've heard the rumours. There's supposed to be another big push coming."

"There's always another big push, Harry. None of them seem to go anywhere. We drive forward, Fritz falls back. Then they do the same and we're back where we started from."

Harry reached up and kissed the side of his lips, then rested his head in the hollow of his shoulder.

"Yeah, I know."

They both fell asleep to the sound of guns in the distance.

On their last night they ate in silence and drank too much wine.

"Hey, Harry."

Chadwick's hulking presence loomed over their table, swaying side to side. Usually he was jovial and good-natured, but tonight all Jimmy saw was sadness.

"Want to join me?

He pointed to one of the local girls.

"No."

"How about you, Jimmy boy."

"No. You know what Kitchener said."

Chadwick laughed.

"Fuck Kitchener! I don't see him out here half way up to his arse in mud, shitting his guts out with dysentery, seeing men blown to smithereens, feeling bits and pieces of them hit him in the face."

The _estaminet_ that had been raucous and noisy had gone silent. Chadwick knew he had gone too far. No one in that room needed to be reminded of his own mortality. He staggered slightly as he walked over to the girl, grabbed her by the waist and headed for the stairs.

"Well, I'm going to get fucked tonight before I get fucked tomorrow."

Life slowly returned to the room, but Jimmy just took Harry by the hand, not caring if anyone saw.

"Let's go."

That night it wasn't about sex. It was about being alive. And love.

At the whistle they went over the top together but got separated in the confusion. There were too many men rushing forward. Too much smoke in the air from exploding shells for Jimmy to see very far. He desperately looked around for Harry and finally spotted him slightly ahead on his left about twenty feet away. He started to move toward him when a shell exploded to his right, knocking him to the ground. He scrambled up, crouching low, and looked around. He saw Chadwick on his knees with a gaping wound to his head, then watched him fall forward and lay motionless. There was nothing he could do anyway.

_Jesus. Harry._

He looked to his left again and saw him still moving forward. He yelled, trying to be heard above the din of bullets and men shouting.

"Harry! Harry!"

Harry somehow heard. He stopped and half turned towards him, shouting back.

"Jimmy! I thought I'd lost you."

Jimmy stepped over a body lying in front of him and began running toward him . He was within ten feet when he saw the machine gun bullets rip into his chest and stitch down to his groin. Harry's face turned from relief to shock as he grabbed at his belly and toppled backwards.

_No! No! No! No!_

Jimmy dropped his rifle and threw himself down beside him, grabbing at him, clutching him to his chest. He started to cry. He watched Harry's eyes flicker then focus. As he tried to speak, the sergeant ran up behind Jimmy.

"Kent! Kent! Get up and pick up your rifle or I'll blow your fucking brai ...."

He stopped, grabbing at his throat, trying to keep the blood from pouring out where the bullet had torn through. He pitched forward onto Jimmy, knocking him to the ground and pinning him on top of Harry. The first thing he thought was that Harry would be safe now, protected by his own body. Then he remembered someone had to look at his wounds. He struggled to push the sergeant off, but was too heavy to move completely. He fought free enough so he could see Harry's face. Blood had gushed from his mouth and his eyes stared vacantly at him. In the distance Jimmy could hear someone screaming. Then he realised it was his own voice.

He didn't remember much after that. He later found out that as the battle died away, two men had heard him, pulled the sergeant off and risked their lives trying to drag him away. He fought back, swearing, yelling that he wasn't going to leave him, until one of them punched him, knocking him out. When he woke in the field hospital, he found out he had been wounded by shrapnel that had embedded in his leg. He was told he was lucky the half dozen pieces weren't too deep and even luckier that he escaped infection. He really didn't care.

After a few weeks of recuperation at the rear, he was sent to the front again. He had a bit of a limp that soon went away. But there was far more damage than the shrapnel had caused. He blamed himself. If he hadn't called to him, he wouldn't have stopped. He had made him a standing target. By the time the war ended a few months later, he had become so reckless that the other soldiers tried to stay away from him, sure that he would be killed and get them killed along with him.

When he got back to England he had nowhere to go except back to Lady Anstruther to try to pick up where he left off. At first he thought that it might have been better if he had died too, but came to realise that if he had there would be nothing left of Harry. Harry's parents had died so his memories were all there was. Daniel had proven that he wasn't completely numb. But trying to ease loneliness with sex only went so far; it did nothing for the overwhelming guilt. Daniel listened to everything, but although he too had been in the war, Jimmy felt no one would ever understand. He was as empty as Harry's eyes had been.

Eventually he buried it, but it never left him. It haunted his nightmares, shaking him awake in a tight ball. Those too had begun to fade until he could think about Harry without breaking down. Occasionally he would still sob when he looked at the photo, but he couldn't bear not to see his face. Then Lady Anstruther decided to move to France.

* * *

Jimmy could hear voices at the end of the hallway. He paused before entering what he assumed was the servants' hall. A new start on his own terms, with a past of his own making. He knocked at the open door.

"Hello."

He saw all the eyes in the room turn to him. There was silence for a few seconds before one of the maids spoke

"Can we help you?"

"I'm here to see Mr Carson."

As he said that a man crossed in front of him. As he turned to face him, he felt his fingers tingle, the same sensation he had when he held Harry's photo.

"Who's this?"

"Jimmy Kent, at your service."

Right. Now that was open to all kinds of meanings. Nice going, Kent.

"I'm Mr. Barrow. His Lordship's valet."

"And I'm hoping to be his Lordship's footman."

_Fuck_. That smile. Those eyes as they travelled his body. So much like Harry's eyes, yet so much more. If Daniel Anstruther had been a mistake, this would be an epic disaster. It couldn't happen. No matter what he had to do to stop it, no matter who he had to hurt, what lies he had to tell, it wouldn't happen. After a brief conversation with an older woman he was asked to wait. He glanced quickly at Mr. Barrow only to see that smile again as he awkwardly looked away. Everything he felt told him to leave.

~~ End ~~

  



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